


Beneath the Moon

by NikaylaSarae



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Bite Injury, Death/Dying Talk, Dog Attack Mention, Fighting Talk, War talk, Werewolf!AU, Werewolf!Logan, injuries
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:28:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28160937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NikaylaSarae/pseuds/NikaylaSarae
Summary: After all the research he’d done, after all the signs he’d been experiencing. Logan needed someone to tell him he wasn’t crazy. And Roman…Roman had always been the one most likely to believe in the fantastical, the impossible, the…supernatural.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 34





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-posted to my Tumblr account @stillebesat.
> 
> December Drabbles Day 18

“A _werewolf._ ” 

Logan swallowed, fiddling with the loosely wrapped bandage on his hand as he kept his eyes firmly on Roman’s ankles. “I told you.” He said. “It isn’t logical.” 

“Hence why you came to me because I’m…what was that phrase you used the last time we…talked?” 

Logan ran his uninjured hand through his hair as he ducked his head. Why had he ever thought, after how they’d left things off, that Roman would actually help him? The unhealing bite wound _had_ to be infected _and_ addling his brains despite the numerous doctors visits and medications he’d been on this past month that would prove otherwise. 

“I believe I called you a ‘pompous prick of a prince stuck in a permanent delusional daydream.’” He whispered.

Roman snorted, uncrossing his legs as he leaned forward like a hawk about to snatch up his prey. “Trust the Brain to remember such a phrase after what? _Fifteen_ years, Lo.” 

This _was_ a mistake. Logan made a noncommittal sound as he hunched his shoulders. But he’d seen Roman and just---reacted, instinctively trusting that he would be able to help. 

After all the research he’d done, after all the signs he’d been experiencing. Logan _needed_ someone to tell him he wasn’t crazy. And Roman...Roman had _always_ been the one most likely to believe in the fantastical, the impossible, the...supernatural. “It’s what I’m good at.” He said, closing his eyes, again fidgeting with the bandage. “Remembering things.” 

He’d been teased constantly for his memory all throughout school. Been called Sherlock or Brain so often that half their graduating class didn’t know his actual name. 

Which made the fact that he couldn’t _remember_ the fever filled two days after he’d received this...this bite...from that black dog--wolf?...more concerning. 

And after a month’s long session of ‘research’ into his wound, his further symptoms, and the circumstances around his bite and the dog--wolf that had bitten him…had led him to the only explanation that fit the entire experience. 

He’d been bitten by a werewolf. 

And if... _IF_ this was true, his research pointed to the strong possibility that in under an hour, when the full moon rose, Logan would forcibly be changed from man to wolf. 

He didn’t want to believe it. 

But all the signs pointed to it. His sudden allergy to silver. Cats no longer liking him. An increase in appetite, especially for red meat--which Logan had historically disliked the taste of. His eyesight inexplicably improving to the point where he no longer needed to wear his glasses. His sense of smell and hearing randomly becoming overwhelming to the point he could barely function only to return to normal a split second later. And most importantly, the fact that the bite wound on his hand _would not heal,_ which a very dusty book from the library had stated would not vanish until _after_ the first full moon _after_ the bite occurred---all pointed to him being a werewolf.

But it wasn’t like Logan could just tell anyone about this theory of his. About what he _thought_ could happen tonight.

After all, werewolves shouldn’t exist. 

To confide to anyone that he thought that they did and that _he_ could become one tonight because he’d been bitten by a dog that looked like a wolf--

“And you thought...that I was still this...delusional Prince?” Roman asked, raising an eyebrow, his amber eyes glittering. “Willing to go along with any make-believe or fantasy adventure that comes my way at the drop of a hat?” 

Logan could feel the heat rising to his cheeks and hated himself for it. Of course it was crazy to expect that _Roman_ of all people would believe him. 

In retrospect he probably was the _worst_ choice Logan could have made when choosing to confide in someone. After all, they had been, for all intents and purposes, enemies for the past fifteen years. 

Yet Logan had momentarily forgotten that little fact. Had only remembered his childhood friend who had lived and breathed adventure growing up and would probably be the one most likely to believe him when he saw him pull into his driveway. 

A Child’s fantasy was a lot different from an Adult’s though.

And Roman...Roman had gone from wanting to be an Actor in high school to choosing to serve three tours overseas in the War and coming back a decorated hero. Someone who had seen the darker side of being a modern day knight in shining armor and yet had chosen to embrace that reality anyways. 

Even sitting, Roman commanded the room. He was all confidence, a lion lounging on his throne, claws only sheathed because there was no need to use them...yet. 

And if things went…badly. It was all too likely that he would use those warrior skills and shoot Logan the moment he...he changed. After all, Roman was now trained to see threats and take care of them.

Werewolves were historically, in their lore, always a threat. A danger to society.

Logan squeezed his eyes shut, conscious of how his heart rate had picked up. 

_Mistake. Mistake! MISTAKE!_

He had under an hour to get to a place where he could potentially shift in safety. Where he could test his theory of what he was and how he would change without endangering himself or any people who might be around and here he was talking to his high school enemy like he expected Roman to take him in like a lost injured puppy.

Logan pushed to his feet, bringing his bandaged hand to his chest protectively. “My apologies, Roman.” He said, unable to look up from the ground to properly face him. Roman probably was staring at him like he was a crazed loon after his sudden appearance on his doorstep and the ludicrous story he’d just told. “I shouldn’t have intruded in such a manner.” He turned for the door. “I’ll see myself out.”

He’d been so desperate to find someone, anyone to humor him. Someone he could _trust._ To help him _test_ out his theory. To make sure that _IF_ he changed. _If_ something went wrong. That--that if he--he became a crazed bloodthirsty beast, there would be _someone_ there to take care of it--keep him safe from hurting others. 

Or…if nothing happened. Which Logan desperately wanted to believe. That nothing _would_ happen. That the moon would rise and he would just be standing there, perfectly fine and definitely embarrassed to have indulged in such a fancy...that someone would keep his momentary lapse in judgement quiet--

He highly doubted that Roman would keep this particular visit quiet. What sane person would? Logan probably looked like a crazed lunatic, showing up out of the blue in an old NASA t-shirt and worn jeans, spouting off theories on how he could be a new-made werewolf going to change for the first time tonight--Roman should have called the police as soon as he opened his mouth.

Logan would have, had their positions been switched. 

He tensed, breath hitching as Roman caught his wrist in an iron grip before he’d taken three steps, conscious of the fact that his childhood friend probably now knew twelve different ways to incapacitate him before he could blink. 

“You didn’t show me the bite wound.” Roman said, voice soft. “How can you tell me such a fantastical story and expect me to believe you if you don’t show me your key piece of proof?” 

Logan bit his bottom lip, daring to glance at his childhood friend, gauging how serious he was about seeing the injury. 

“Well?” Roman held out his hand, palm up towards Logan. “It’s not like I haven’t seen my fair share of battle wounds, Lo. I doubt your little bite will compare.”

That was true. Roman had seen battle. War. People dead and dying.

Logan steeled himself, he’d been careful about who touched his injured hand, not sure what the wound would do should it come in contact with another. “It’s not a _little_ bite.” He said, reluctantly holding it out to him. 

He raised an eyebrow, a small smirk playing on his lips. “I’ll be the judge of that.” 

Logan looked away as Roman unraveled the bandage. His feet shifted in place as he glanced at the clock on the mantle, watching the second hand tick its way closer to the full moon’s rising. 

It was odd...Roman had never needed proof before. He’d been the sort to take people at their word and go harring off at the slightest hint of an adventure.

Obviously he had changed far more after high school than Logan had anticipated. It was--

Roman whistled as the last of the bandages fell to the ground. “This...happened a month ago?” He asked, turning Logan’s hand over studying the bite that formed a large crescent shape from his middle finger down to his wrist. 

“Twenty-eight days.” He corrected, wincing as Roman gently poked the wound. He’d been attacked on the last night of last month’s full moon cycle. 

“It looks--”

“Fresh?” Besides the visible lack of blood coming from the wound, it looked like it could have happened only minutes ago.

“Horrible.” Roman frowned. “I’ve seen men take sharpenal to their hands and this--just a bit more pressure and you could have lost your thumb and two fingers--”

Logan winced, his stomach twisting. “I know--I didn’t.” It had been a close thing though. He could have lost half his hand if the wolf had dug its teeth just half an inch deeper into his flesh and pulled, it was a miracle he could still use his fingers at all. Another inconsistency really, with normal dog bites. His hand still worked perfectly despite the large wound maring half of the surface that should have destroyed his tendons and muscles.

“And you’ve tried--”

“Everything short of surgery.” And with his hand able to function normally, no Doctor was willing to try that just yet, not after a single month. “Nothing heals it.” 

Roman hummed. “An unhealing wound.” He mumbled, looking up. He frowned, raising a hand to Logan’s chin, turning his head this way and that as he peered into his eyes. “Did you always have a golden tint to your irises?” He asked, trailing his fingers down to press gently against the side of Logan’s throat, where the pulse of his heart frantically pounded against Roman’s warm fingers.

Logan swallowed, feeling the color draining from his face. _Golden tint?_ “No.” He whispered. “They’ve always been green. You know that.” 

Roman clicked his tongue, abruptly pulling away from him and crossing his arms. “Okay. Say, hypothetically, I don’t think you’re crazy.”

Logan blinked at the sudden change in tone. “You don’t?” He asked, not quite believing he was hearing this as pulling his hand back to his chest. It would be pointless to try and rebandage it with the moon so close to rising.

“ _Hypothetically._ ” Roman stressed, giving him a tight smile. “If you are going to turn into this--” He waved a hand around. “Werewolf creature. What exactly did you want my help for? Cus I highly doubt you’re thinking something stupid like _true love’s kiss_ will work in this particular scenario of yours that you’ve set up.” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> December Drabbles Day 21

It was simple.

Or, at least Logan hoped it would be simple.

He’d read so much literature on how werewolves needed to be chained up, locked away, and prevented from roaming free in order to keep them safe from themselves and from other people…that he wanted to try the opposite.

“So let me get this straight.” Roman said, leaning against a statue in his back garden. “You’re just going to stand there...and let the change happen without tying yourself up?” 

Logan took a breath, trying to not feel self conscious as he placed his shirt on a nearby bench. “Yes.” He probably should have taken all his clothes off if the stories were true that they would be rags by morning...but he already felt extremely self conscious with just his shirt off in front of his--his frenemy. It felt--he felt too...vulnerable. “My theory is...is that if I just...accept this. Accept that I will change into a wolf and not try and fight it. I will retain more of my...humanity.” 

“If you shift.”

Logan nodded, rubbing his arm with his good hand, glancing to the horizon. The moon should be making its appearance any minute now. “Yes. _ If  _ I shift.” 

Would it have to fully emerge before something happened? Or would just the smallest of slivers cause the change?

“And you need me---”

“Mostly for your wall.” Because Roman’s family had placed a large stone wall around the perimeter of their property years ago for privacy. With nearly a dozen acres stretching out behind his home, it should hopefully be enough space for Logan to roam around comfortably without feeling...trapped. 

“My wall.” 

“To keep me contained…but also for---for--” Logan exhaled, forcing himself to look at Roman’s shadowed form. “If this goes badly, I hope your aim with a gun is as good as the news proclaims it to be.”

Roman made a face, one hand dropping to the handgun at his waist as he took a step forward. “I don’t hate you enough to  _ kill  _ you, Logan. No matter _ if  _ this werewolf thing actually happens. You won’t die tonight. Mark my words.” 

Logan shivered, taking a step back to keep his distance as he again glanced to where the moon should be. Was it getting brighter over there? “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Ro.” He whispered, narrowing his eyes. It did appear to be lighter than before. He swallowed, feeling his heart rate pick up. 

Any second now. 

Would the first light of the moon cause the change? Or did it have to be fully risen? 

He brushed the unhealing wound on his hand. “I don’t know how...human my mind will be  _ if  _ this happens. I may just try to kill you.” 

Whether it was to defend himself or because he would feel the need to hunt...remained unknown. Logan just hoped it wouldn’t come to that. At least he hoped his childhood friend could get to safety before anything...happened.

“Ha.” Roman scoffed, drawing Logan’s attention back to him as he deliberately drew closer. “I doubt you’d be coordinated enough to do so.”

Possibly. Logan shook his head, again retreating away from his childhood friend. Just because Roman believed nothing would happen didn’t mean that he should try and approach until after they established he wasn’t going to become a wolf. 

And if he did…walking on four limbs would be something he’d have to adjust to. It would be completely different from being on two legs and it wasn’t exactly something Logan could practice at. At least not well, because he had tried to experiment and figure out how walking on all fours would go back at his apartment. He’d even created and tied a makeshift tail around his waist, but after watching dogs playing in the nearby park, he knew that the extra limb would be far more active than the limp thing he’d made. 

Logan drew in another shaky breath, the hairs on the back of his neck rising as he kept his attention on Roman. “You don’t know that.” 

There were just too many unknowns in this. Too many tidbits of information that couldn’t be confirmed as fact or fiction. 

Would it hurt? It had to. All the stories said it would. Would it burn? Probably. Every account described it as such. But then again, it wasn’t like the authors in the YA Supernatural section of the library had ever personally experienced a transformation themselves. Since werewolves weren’t supposed to exist it wasn’t like they could know just how this change would affect hi--

“Lo.”

He looked up, stiffening as Roman grabbed his shoulders. “Ro--” He choked out, lifting his hands up in an attempt to push his childhood friend away, his heart climbing into his throat at his sudden proximity.  _ He shouldn’t be this close!!  _ Not when the moon should--he tried to look over his shoulder to find the moon, but Roman’s palm was there to catch his cheek, keeping him from turning around.

“Lo.” He repeated softly looking into his eyes. “You’re going to be okay.” 

Logan mutely shook his head. The moon had to be rising. It had to be! And it didn’t feel like he was okay. It felt more like he was teetering on the edge of a cliff. Walking the line between the impossible and insanity. Either he was right or he was crazy. It wasn’t--it wasn’t comforting and he didn’t--he couldn’t---an icy chill ran down his spine as soft white light washed over Roman’s face. 

Roman squeezed his shoulders. “Trust me.” He said, amber eyes suddenly shifting to a bright blazing gold as he abruptly turned Logan to face the horizon.

To face the rising moon.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cross-posted to my Tumblr account @stillebesat.

The one key detail that had been consistent in every source Logan had looked up about werewolves was the change. 

While the imagery used in each had varied, the descriptions overall had remained the same. Changing into a wolf would hurt. He would feel like he was on fire. Burning as his body was forcibly changed from one form to another.

Heat. 

Because everything became more malleable when it was warm. Ice would melt. Plastic would bend. Metal would pool. 

Heat was the source of change. 

So to become a wolf. He would have to burn.

And yet.

All Logan felt was cold. Frozen really. Like he was stuck in a glacier, his heart slowly pounding, fighting against the tidal wave of ice that threatened to engulf him. Pounding like the waves of the ocean beating against the shore. The pull of the cool tide dragging at him, beckoning him to fall into the moon. To get lost in the never ending white light as it filled his entire vision. Filled his vision despite him knowing that only the top sliver of it had appeared. That the whole moon shouldn’t be visible just yet. That there was no way for him to be able to reach the moon from here.

There was a roaring in his ears as his breath caught in his throat, his body going rigid even as his feet shifted to run away, to hide from this empty void of space that called to him as the moon rose higher, beckoning him to let go of the earth and float into the sky with it. To free himself from the restraints of gravity and just---

_Accept it._

The faint thought echoed distantly in his head as a soft whimper left his throat.

_You said you would accept it._

The moon filled his vision. Pulsating. Like a beacon, it called to him. Called to him in a way that it shouldn’t. The moon had never held such an allure before now and his mind frantically fought against the impossibility. How could an object in space hold such power? How could it force him to be anything than what he was. 

Human.

_Accept it._

Werewolves shouldn’t exist!

But research had shown. The bite on his hand--he--he---

Like a lonely foghorn sounding over the misty shores at night, a single howl broke through his turbulent thoughts, echoing in the night, overtaking any other sound, demanding his attention. 

Demanding an answer.

That answer was wedged in his throat. The urge to--to--but--he--he couldn’t-- 

_Accept it._

The howl echoed again and Logan could have sworn he saw a shadowy form flit across the surface of the moon. 

A shadow that looked like a wolf.

Logan shuddered, the shadow growing bigger in his vision, the eyes within glowing bright like the sun as it turned to face him, staring him down, the ice in his body threatening to drown freeze him, feeling the need to cry out to--to--

Howl. 

_You said-_ -

Accept it.

He had to--there was no denying with how the moon was calling to him. He _had to_ if he wanted any chance of keeping his human mind.

Shuddering from the ice that seemed to flow through his veins, Logan threw his head back and let out an answering howl, calling for--for--he didn’t know. For the wolf? For it to come to him?

His voice still echoing in his ears, the shadow on the moon pounced, despite the impossibility of it all, wrapping around him like a warm current, heating the frozen ache that held his muscles captive like a warm wind on a hot summer day.

He couldn’t help but melt into that warmth as it massaged the ice away, falling to his hands and knees as a soft lilting voice whispered in his ear.

_Welcome brother._

His heart skipped a beat at those two very simple words. 

Simple words that he hadn’t felt applied to him either singly or together in a very _very_ long time.

“Logan?” 

A chill ran down his spine as the warmth vanished as quickly as it had engulfed him, leaving him to stagger in place, his body feeling--feeling--

_Not human._

Definitely not human.

His eyes flashed open and he flinched back at the not--at the--his eyes---he wasn’t _seeing_ how he was used to seeing! It was too... _clear?_ He knew it was night. The colors--He shook his head, heart pounding painfully quick as a snarl left his lips before he could stop it, his other senses going into overdrive as everything began to twitch. His ears, his nose, his--his--

He whirled in a circle, paws slipping on the grass as he caught sight of a long black--A whimper of disbelief sounding in his ears as he stared at--at--

_A Tail._

He. Had. A. _TAIL._

It was _nothing_ like the one he’d tried to create before. Of course he’d known that. But still. It was--it was _moving_ and he wasn’t sure if _he_ was controlling it or not and he couldn’t get it to _stop_ moving and with his ears twitching at every sound demanding to _know_ what that _noise_ was and his nose twitching as it filled with smells that were both familiar and yet totally unfamiliar at the same time that _demanded_ he needed to investigate so he could figure out just _what_ he was sensing and--he--he---

It was too much.

All that preparation had been for nothing. It was like that nightmare of walking into a final and realizing you hadn’t studied for it at all. He couldn’t do this! This was--

“Whoa, Lo. It’s okay. Breathe, Buddy. You’re okay. You’re doing great.” 

Logan shuddered at how his ears flicked towards the voice and away, another soft whine leaving him as he looked up to Roman.

Roman, who’s eyes were glowing as bright gold as any wolf’s in the moonlight as he stood tall, head held high, staring him down, one hand outstretched in a pacifying gesture despite the display of dominance. “You’re okay, Lo.” He said in a low voice, maintaining eye contact, his breath steady despite how quickly Logan could hear his heart beating. 

_Because he doesn’t know if you’re a threat._

And Roman had been trained to _kill_ threats.

Logan lowered his head, ears laying back as he found himself reacting to instinct, crouching down so that his belly brushed the ground, to appear as small as possible in this...this shape. 

The golden light in Roman’s eyes softened as he took a careful step closer.

It took all that he had to stay in place, to not retreat against Ro’s advancement. Not that Logan was confident he could _run_ at this point. As uncoordinated and off kilter as he felt he’d probably end up face planting into the ground after two steps.

Another whine left his throat as Roman crouched within lunging distance, his hand still outstretched. 

“I know it’s a lot to take in.” He said with a faint smile. “A lot to get used to. But I know you can handle this, Brainiac. You’re gonna be just fine. I know you won’t hurt me.” 

Such Trust. 

Such trust for a high school enemy.

And yet---Logan found himself cautiously creeping forward, belly still to the ground as he stretched out his head, instinctively sniffing Roman’s proffered hand. 

His ears perked as he tried to place the multitude of scents he found there, far more than should have been on a human’s hands. It was intriguing. So much he could sense with a bare sniff and yet he couldn’t _place_ those smells. It was--He licked Roman’s fingers to get a better idea of just what was on--

_Wait._

Logan recoiled, mouth feeling like it was on fire as he gagged, his tail twisting down to hide between his legs. Had he seriously just _licked_ Roman’s hand?! 

Laughter rang through the air as Roman reached out, scratching Logan’s ears with warm fingers. “Do I taste that bad?” 

He stiffened under the touch, his chest rumbling with a suppressed growl of disagreement. No. He hadn’t tasted...unpleasant. Just the fact that Logan had _licked_ him in the first place was...disquieting. 

He closed his eyes, leaning into Roman’s warm hand. He’d been so focused on having the _tail_ that he’d overlooked all other canine behavior he could exhibit with these...extra senses in this unfamiliar shape. 

Roman huffed, dragging his fingers down to scritch underneath Logan’s chin before pulling back. “You’re overthinking this.”

His ears laid back, eyes flashing open to glare at him. What did Roman expect? Him to be a crazy rabid feral--he flinched, remembering too late just _why_ he had Roman bring a gun out here. 

Because he _should_ be feral. Wild. Aggressive. He was a freaking _wolf_ now. And while he was thankfully thinking more _human_ at the moment, unlike the mindless beast he’d feared he’d become, he was still in a _wolf’s_ body until the moon set and he had no idea _how_ was he supposed to figure this out on his own--

Roman exhaled, shaking his head, his eyes glowing a brighter gold in the darkness as he slipped his gun, still in its holster, from around his waist, tossing it into a nearby bush before Logan could react. “Instinct, Lo.” 

Logan stiffened, looking between the bush and his childhood friend before taking a cautious step away from where the gun had fallen. What was he doing?! That was Ro’s only protection against--

Roman’s heart rate slowed as he pulled his own shirt over his head, tossing it to the side as he stared Logan down with a half smile. “The wolf won’t remain tethered beneath the human forever. They’re equals within you now. You just have to take a breath. Relax. And--” He rippled like a mirage on a hot summer day before a wolf with reddish brown fur stepped forward to rub his head against Logan’s. ~ _Trust yourself._ ~


End file.
